


Tales from Space City 2 -- zine

by HelenPatrick



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen, M/M, Other, Zine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-11
Updated: 2011-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-27 05:13:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenPatrick/pseuds/HelenPatrick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Online archive for the second volume of the Blake's 7 printzine "Tales from Space City". Stories will be added in stages, as and when I get permission from the writers. The online copy of volume 2 is unlikely to ever be complete, as I no longer have contact details for some of the authors (and sadly, some are no longer with us).</p><p>Most recent additions: <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/291964/chapters/467106">Dear Diary</a> by Predatrix, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/291964/chapters/467104">Vilanelle</a> by Predatrix, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/291964/chapters/467103">Keeping Warm</a>, by Predatrix and Helen Patrick, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/291964/chapters/467097">Vampire Snippet</a> by Predatrix</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Front matter

# **Tales from Space City 2**

  


#  **Editor**

  


#  **Helen Patrick**

  
This zine contains explicit adult material, both heterosexual and homosexual, and is not for sale to anyone under the age of 18. Please do not buy the zine if such material offends you.  
Most of the contents of this zine have previously appeared on Space City, a private, non-archived email list. Some of the contents of this zine are archived on the World Wide Web.

* * *

# Editorial

 ** _or, "Actually, I could get to like this…_ "**

So here we are with another volume of Tales from Space City. I must be mad… In fact, I'm even planning on continuing with a third volume, proof positive that I'm mad.

It's a little later than I'd planned. The curse of the zine editor struck – I was too ill to do a decent job on it for most of last year. Then a month before the Neutral Zone con I realised that I was well enough to start work on it again, and that if I worked very hard, and if my long-suffering proof readers worked even harder, there might be just enough time before the con to assemble the material I'd already edited into a zine. As it happens, the list had a change of management, and a change of name, shortly after I'd had to set the zine aside. After four years of sterling work, the list owner found she could no longer juggle the demands of Real Life and the list. Another kind, if obviously masochistic <g,d&r>, soul has taken over responsibility. The changeover seemed a good point to break off Volume 2, and start Volume 3, hence this volume is a little thinner than the first.

As before, this is a non-trib zine, and thanks are due to the authors for contributing anyway. Thanks also go to the proof readers and artist. I'll try to give you a little more notice next time, ladies. Yes, I know I said that last time <feeble grin>. And I mustn't forget various people who _nagged_. And finally, Susan, for four years' hard labour at keeping Space City a wonderful place to drop in for a virtual pint. Cheers.

 **Note on second edition:** Shortly after the first edition went to press, a change in my work meant that I could no longer handle the printing and sales side of zine production. Fortunately, Judith Proctor agreed to take over on future print runs. As Judith's policy on adult art is stricter than mine, we decided that the simplest way to handle it would be to remove all adult art from future print runs of the existing zines. The gen art only copies will be clearly marked as a separate edition.

 ** _Technical details:_**  
Over 65 000 words of non-editorial text.  
The layout was done in Word Pro 97.  
Main text: 10 point Times New Roman.  
Editorial commentary: 12 and 10 point Unicorn.  
Other text: Arial and Times New Roman.

Vocabulary, spelling and punctuation have generally been converted to British English throughout, with the exception of Labor Day (it is a US public holiday, after all).

Printed on A4 size paper. Nobody has permission to reprint in any other format, and at this writing no one other than Judith Proctor has permission to reprint at all. Please don't support pirates – you only hurt the fandom if the people who sink their time and money into producing zines are driven out of publishing because they can't cover the costs of a print run.

Corrections, comments and suggestions on layout, printing quality and binding are welcomed at helen.patrick@bigfoot.com, or whichever snailmail address I'm using at the time.

* * *

# Contents

 Editorial| | 2  
---|---|---  
Contents| | 3  
[Vampire Snippet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/291964/chapters/467097)| Predatrix| 5  
A snippet – Avon's eyes| Sandy Steiner| 6  
Touch-A Touch-A Touch-A Touch Me| Kat W| 7  
Interlude| Calle Dybedahl| 8  
Unlikely Challenge| Oliver Klosov| 9  
There's a Rocket in my Pocket| Airan Wilkinson| 10  
[Keeping Warm](http://archiveofourown.org/works/291964/chapters/467103)| Predatrix and Helen Patrick| 11  
Snippet| Jenni-Alison| 11  
The Diamond Prince| Julia Henry| 12  
Zipper| Alicia Ann Fox| 13  
Shadowscapes| Anfrolenthis| 14  
12 Days of Christmas| Cami| 17  
Decline and Fall| Anon| 18  
Revenge| Steve Rogerson| 19  
[Vilanelle](http://archiveofourown.org/works/291964/chapters/467104)| Predatrix| 20  
Eye Colour Genetics| Lisa Williams| 20  
[Dear Diary](http://archiveofourown.org/works/291964/chapters/467106)| Predatrix| 21  
Dreams of an Insomniac| Nova| 22  
Snippet| Susan Cutter| 25  
Space City room party at Redemption 1999| Kat W, una, Harriet, predx, Rob| 25  
Packing for Redemption| Christabel| 26  
Language and Morals Crackdown| Susan Cutter| 27  
| Oliver Klosov| 27  
| Judith Proctor| 27  
| Deborah Rose| 28  
| Fifitrix| 29  
Santa Saves the Day| Susan Cutter| 30  
 _The 1998 Birthday Party_| |   
Party Theme| Susan Cutter| 31  
Hidden Facet| Susan Cutter| 32  
The Lesson| Lydia McMartyn| 33  
Gan| Judith Proctor| 34  
Irreversible| Catharine R| 34  
Just a Quickie| Lydia McMartyn| 34  
Mr President| Oliver Klosov| 35  
I Was Corrupted by Space City!!!| Helen Patrick| 36  
Korda Sings| Kassandra West| 37  
Hidden Facets| Calle Dybedahl| 38  
Hidden Facet| Christabel| 39  
Secret| Steve Rogerson| 40  
Hidden Facets| Paula Robinson| 41  
Party Favour| Oliver Klosov| 42  
Hidden Facets| Carolyn| 42  
A Source of Innocent Merriment| Count Jockula| 43  
Hidden Facets| Christabel| 44  
Hidden Facets| Predatrix| 45  
Hidden Facets 2| Predatrix| 47  
Hidden Facets 2| Kate Hall| 48  
Hidden Facets| Jenner| 49  
Hidden Facet| Susan Cutter| 50  
Hidden Facet| Susan Cutter| 51  
Flight| Catharine R| 52  
Hidden Assets| Christabel| 52  
Hidden Facets 1| Kate Hall| 53  
Desertion| Andrea| 54  
Hidden Facets| Louise Rutter| 56  
 _Round Robins and other things_| |   
Christmas Carols| Christabel| 57  
Avon at the Con| Various:Susan Cutter, Lorna Payne, Oliver Klosov, Pat Fenech, Cami, Helen Patrick, Christabel| 58  
Lament| An anonymous Significant Other| 72  
Spacerebels of Gor| Calle Dybedahl| 73  
Some scribbling| Jenni-Alison| 81  
  
All art by Val Westall.

This amateur fanzine is copyright March 2000 to the writers and artist and Helen Patrick. It may not be reproduced in any form, including electronically, without the explicit written permission of the authors, artist and editor. It is understood that only original material is covered by this copyright and no attempt is made to supersede any copyright held by Terry Nation's estate, the BBC or any other holder of copyright on Blake's 7 material.


	2. Vampire Snippet, by Predatrix

[Scene: The corridor outside AVON's room. BLAKE passes by, full speed, stark naked and spattered with blood. He does not notice VILA, who is fascinated. AVON appears a moment later, also naked. He has one hand over his mouth, and is speaking indistinctly. He notices VILA.]

"D'n't t'll anyone 'bout this or…"

"Or what, Avon?"

[AVON spits something out into his hand.]

"Vila, this is our own private business."

"Let me guess, you made a pass at him and he broke your teeth for it?"

"No."

"He made a pass at you, and didn't take kindly to being rejected?"

"No."

"He had a nosebleed, and you just happened to have a toothache at the same moment?"

"No… You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"'Course I am. Who wouldn't? Nice to see our Blake's found something more entertaining to do with his nights than rehearsing speeches, and I always wondered what you'd look like embarrassed rather than buttoned-up- to-the-eyebrows…" [Trails off as AVON directs a killing glare in his direction. AVON is distracted from his anger by shivering. We always knew he was sensitive to cold.]

[VILA efficiently wraps one arm round AVON and leads him back into his room.] "Nice in here, innit? Can't imagine why I've never nicked any of your stuff, would have been well worth it…" [Picks up a large black dressing-gown from the bed, sniffs at the stains but is too astute to mention them.] "Just sit down a minute, get your breath back, no wonder you're cold, standing there freezing your balls off stark naked, here, get this round you."

[VILA thumps about in some of the cupboards, and comes up with two large glasses of whisky, one of which he hands to AVON.] "And get this down you, you'll soon feel better." [AVON gulps, as if automatically. After a while, colour returns to his face, and he stops shivering.]

"Go on, tell old Vila all about it, you know you want to."

[After drinking quite a bit, AVON seems to relax.]

"You promise you won't tell anyone?"

"Won't tell a soul, would I do a thing like…" [VILA trails off.] "Er, er, well, drink up, you'll soon feel a lot better."

[AVON drinks.] "It all started when I had an idea about how to stop Blake getting so pompous. A ludicrous idea, worthy of you. You know when we visited that planet, a few weeks back, with all those ridiculous and totally irrational legends about vampires…"

"Wait, I'm ahead of you. You convinced him you were a vampire, and he's run screaming…"

"Not exactly, Vila. I dropped a few interesting hints. Invited him to my room and kept the lights low, started dropping veiled clues about my background… You know he finds his social class embarrassing, he'd much rather be a Man of the People…"

"Like me," [VILA wipes his nose on his shirt sleeve.]

"All right, you don't have to overdo it… Well, I didn't say I was a vampire, of course. I didn't have to. I waited for him to suggest the idea. It was quite easy to suggest that the old families had made a few interesting genetic modifications. Then I let him catch a glimpse of me in these…" [Shamefacedly, he unclenches his hand, revealing a pathetically unconvincing set of fangs. VILA is hysterical.] "Look, it was in a bad light! Anyway, he didn't run screaming." [VILA looks blank.] "He seemed to find the idea… exciting." [If VILA laughs any harder he will do himself an injury.]

"Suffice it to say…" [AVON looks at VILA wearily] "…it was a thoroughly entertaining evening."

"What went wrong?"

"I smiled at him afterwards… I'd completely forgotten I was still wearing them! I was going to explain it was all a stupid joke, but…" [AVON shrugs.] "You see, when he wasn't…"

"Randy."

"When he was sentimental rather than sexually aroused…"

"He couldn't handle the soppy smile with a few more teeth than usual." [VILA pauses.] "Don't worry, Avon. I've thought of a way round this."

"How?"

"Well, it'll involve getting someone else in on this…" [AVON looks at the com.] "No. Don't need that. There are some advantages to having a telepathic girlfriend." [They wait.]

[There is a knock on the door. CALLY enters, trying to keep a straight face. The door closes. She looks at VILA, and AVON, and is soon hysterical with laughter. AVON is beginning to look murderous.]

"Avon, I think I have the answer to your problem. I'm well aware of Blake's credulity. All I have to do is put on this face…" [assumes dying-duck-in-a-thunderstorm expression] "…and he thinks I've been taken over by aliens. And that's aside from all of the Auron sayings I can make up. Blake already has the impression I'm mystical, alien, and have no sense of humour. He'll believe anything!"

[VILA and AVON look bewildered.]

"Come on, you two… I'll tell him I've got a special alien cure for vampirism, with the help of the Liberator medical centre, and then Blake can watch him drink it. I'll go down there and mix up an 'Auron Placebo Special' right now, and get Blake on the com. Vila, do you think you can get Avon to palm those fangs convincingly?"

"C'mon, you know Alphas are hopeless… All right, all right, I'll try."

[CALLY leaves. AVON dresses. After about twenty minutes, AVON can make a reasonable shot at defanging himself by passing a hand over his face then down to his pocket.]

"All right, you'll pass…" [VILA takes on listening expression.] "OK, that's her now. Let's go!" [They walk towards the door.]

"Avon!"

[AVON looks at VILA]

"Avon, for god's sake put your teeth in before you meet Blake!"


	3. Keeping Warm, by Predatrix and Helen Patrick

"Bloody unromantic, I call it."

"Mmm?"

"That hot-water bottle. Zen keeps the place about the temperature of mid-June if you ask him…"

"It."

"…and you're coming to bed with that." [the characteristic noise of a hot-water bottle hitting the wall] "Well, you'll just have to warm up on me…" [rustling, moving noises, screech] "You sod, Kerr!"

"I thought you wanted me to keep warm with you." [mildly and unconvincingly]

"Keep warm, yes. The odd cold foot on my back or my bottom I can cope with, but…"

"You were facing me."

"…something that amounts to two extremely large ice-cubes dumped in my crotch isn't going to encourage any of the activities you seem to be so keen on later at night."

[padding feet]

"Where are you going, Avon?"

"Back to get the hot-water bottle."

[going-back-to-bed noises, then quite a lot of wriggling and sighing]

"What are you actually doing with that hot-water bottle, Kerr?" [in the tone of someone who probably knows the answer but can't quite believe his ears]

"Consoling myself. You know, after its brief visit to the other side of the room, it's actually quite a good temperature for a bit of frottage. Mmm… Pleasantly firm, as well…"

"I'll give you 'pleasantly firm'…" [through gritted teeth]

"I'm sure you would. If you were up to it."

"You're going to regret making that remark, Kerr!"

"Ah?" [rather coyly, followed by the sound of bedclothes being shoved off]

"Because I'm going to be put to the trouble of giving you what you should have had when you were a small child. My cock may be limp, but my hands are still sufficiently firm…"

"Don't you dare, Blake!"

"One," [slap. Confused noise somewhere between "ouch!" and "oooh!"]

"Two… You know, there's a lot to be said for this as a method of improving your circulation. Shuts you up, as well."

"Don't bet on that… Ouch."

"That was three."

"I can count, Blake."

"Four." [pause]

"Isn't the traditional measure supposed to be 'six of the best'?" [a little breathlessly]

"I'm just finding all this exercise has improved my circulation, as well."

[wriggling. Deeply appreciative voice:] "Yes, it has."

"Now, they might say 'spare the rod and spoil the… subordinate'…"

"I'll correct your unwarranted assumptions later."

"Obviously, just my hands aren't giving you a proper sense of your subordinate position…"

"But you haven't got any equipment for corporal punishment…"

"I'm tempted to add 'as far as you know'…"

[rather intrigued "Ah?"]

"…but on the other hand I could just make do with whatever I happen to have, and apply this rod, here, to your recalcitrant bottom…"

[wriggling, and the noises of necessary oils being applied, followed by many rhythmical noises not suggestive of corporal punishment, which reach a crescendo. Consider this as some sort of narrative climax]

"That was a good deal more than two strokes, Blake."

"Are you complaining?"

"Not in the least."

"Then go to sleep."

[snuggling noises, followed indeed by peaceful sleep. Blake is disappointed that he can never manage to get the last word in daylight, but not too disappointed]


	4. Vilanelle, by Predatrix

I wish that I could use a gun.  
First caught when I was ten, I stood  
Too scared to breathe, too sick to run

And wondering why I stole for fun.  
They stole my brain "for my own good":  
I wish that I could use a gun.

I drink and fumble, joke and pun.  
I manage, if misunderstood.  
Too scared to breathe, too sick to run.

I fumbled once near Earth's old sun:  
Blake fired, you fired, as you should.  
I wished that I could use a gun.

I let it fall there where it spun.  
I wished for clubs of ancient wood.  
Too scared to breathe, too sick to run.

And here I hide from you. I'm done.  
My epitaph "Did what he could".  
Too scared to breathe. Too sick to run.  
I wish that I could use a gun.


	5. Dear Diary, by Predatrix

"Diary, private, keep out, no prying, this means you, by KA"

 **_Friday_ **

Back with B again – have been dreaming of shooting him dead for months, mainly for leaving me with this lot, but unfortunately V jogged my arm and I missed. The look on B's face when he _thought_ I was going to shoot him dead, however, affords me some slight consolation. Have lost my headache-backache-and-general-stress-relief pills in all the confusion, but V has found me something else which he says is just as good (note to self: what _is_ Prozac, anyway?).

Am glad B is back to run the Revolution, I never wanted it anyway, and I can have more time with T – I shall enjoy telling B that!

 **_Evening_ **

B appeared to be angling for some sort of romantic reunion scene, but I hate sentiment so I told him that T is far younger and prettier and he is perfectly welcome to make his own arrangements. He is now sulking. T came in halfway through the conversation, and is now also sulking, which is irrational. I wonder if V could give me a stronger prescription of that new medication?

 **_Saturday_ **

Spent all day displaying my Trophy Toyboy to B. In evening T pestered me about what I ever saw in "that broken-down old man". Unfortunately, B overheard, and subsequently roared at T for about ten minutes. T is developing tendency to start at sudden noises. Hope he forgets question, at least until have discovered polite way of expressing the idea that B is slightly better-hung.

 **_Sunday_ **

B glowered at me all afternoon, which had usual effect on me. Am beginning to miss him ^H^H^H it. Did not tell him this. T alternated between giving me reproachful looks and asking me what was the matter. Stalked off to talk to O, which makes rather more sense than most humans around this place.

 **_Monday_ **

Had flaming row with T because he says I can't keep my eyes off B. Spent rest of day in my room getting drunk. Awoken early evening by T nearly hammering the door down to make sure I was on my own. Making up after the quarrel was fun until the point at which I called out the wrong name. As was drunk and excitable, am not entirely sure which name I called out, but cannot ask T because he is sleeping in the spare room and not speaking to me. Spent evening telling O that T does not understand me.

 **_Tuesday_ **

Noticed T is talking to V a lot, presumably about how I don't understand him. Not too worried – he'll come creeping back this evening and make up with me.

 **_Tuesday evening_ **

Heard door being unlocked, and assumed it was T, so arranged myself on bed wearing nothing but a welcoming expression. Unfortunately, B had talked V into undoing my lock for him, so half an hour later, when T appeared, I was being screwed senseless all over the bed.

Have now remembered why I stayed with the irritating bastard all this time.

Should have felt extremely embarrassed at being discovered _in flagrante_ by T, but was enjoying myself (and B) too much to say anything more coherent than "Oh, yes, Blake! More!" T said "Not again – that's what you said last night!" and slapped me. B promised to knock T down to defend my honour, but could he do it later, he was busy. T emitted a strangled cry, turned on his heel, and ran.

 **_Wednesday_ **

Was expecting to be less than popular this morning, but T did not look too miserable. V was sitting rather close to him. When T got up to make a drink, V beckoned me over, and gave me a large bunch of flowers and a wink. Oh well. That solves _that_ problem.

I'll just have to make do with B.

 

(several handwritten notes here)

what do you mean "make do" – Roj

maybe you have your good points. I've forgotten – KA

want me to remind you? – Roj

I suppose I can't stop you – KA

you'd better not – Roj

are you going to––––––––––––––– (trails off into long wiggly line)

Yes, of course I did. I think you enjoyed that – Roj


End file.
